


spooning

by interstellarbeams



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Childishness, Dinner Party, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, Max is the chef, Mo throws a dinner party, Zoey can’t even boil water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23866798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Zoey and Max are sick of hanging out after work with their co-workers at bars so Mo decides to throw a grownup dinner party instead.
Relationships: Eddie/Mo (Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist), Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Max Richman
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	spooning

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go out to Lizzie for listening to my ideas and helping me with a few weirdly worded sentences. And Kayla for always being excited about my fics but especially for our shared otps.
> 
> Just a bit of fluff that I needed to write because reasons.
> 
> Prompt (that I picked for myself 😂): “Did you just throw a spoon at me?”
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! 💕

Zoey had been at another club with Max, Tobin and some of the other brogrammers the week before. Tobin kept hitting her up for shots of Jager — _blech_ , she couldn’t hear anything Max was saying even though he was practically yelling in her ear and she kept getting stepped on by those in the crowd who were bigger than her but so drunk that she couldn’t believe they were still standing. 

Zoey had rolled her eyes and endured it all as the price of going _out_ but on the walk to Max’s apartment, to wait on an Uber to pick her up, he had decided that he was sick of hanging out with their coworkers at bars. The drinks were too expensive, the food was non-existent which was a real bummer after a long day at the office when he was craving dinner and the company was just a little too annoying, especially after dealing with the same people day in and day out.

“Why should we spend our free time with them when all they want are handouts and to impress people with the size of their cliques?”

“Do people use the term ‘cliques’ anymore?” Zoey teased, smirking over at him with one eyebrow quirked, while he gave her a don’t-judge-me look. 

“Okay, so maybe they don’t but I’d rather hang out with real friends than a bunch of strangers who look _this_ close to vomiting on my shoes.” Max pinched his fingers close together, talking with his hands as he vehemently responded to her cheekiness. 

“Maybe we are getting too old for this. We are both adults with careers now.”

“We are! Plus it kinda worries me to think about you going home at night by yourself with a stomach full of strawberry daiquiris and little else.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” Zoey commanded her heart to stop jumping in her chest, he was clearly no longer interested in her if the rumors about him dating one of the girls in his apartment building were true. “And they aren’t daiquiris! They don’t come with Hawaiian umbrellas and a shish kebab of fruit.”

“Whatever.”

Zoey shoved him in the arm and he spun away from her, narrowly missing a large blue USPS mailbox that he jogged around, his voice heavy with laughter and a slightly tipsy hiccup.

“It’s time we started behaving like adults,” Zoey agreed, ignoring the immature way that Max stuck his tongue out at her as they stopped to wait in front of his building for her ride.

So Zoey made the comment to Mo the next morning that she and Max didn’t want to go out anymore and their conversation had jumped to Mo’s excitement over holding his first ever dinner party. Zoey then texted Max who agreed that it would be fun to hang out with Mo and Eddie for a night — _just_ as friends — and their plans for the next Thursday evening had rolled from there. 

Despite Mo’s excitement about the party, he felt more comfortable being the party planner than the caterer, so Max, who had significantly more culinary experience than the rest of them combined, offered his services as menu planner and chef. 

According to Mo, Zoey wasn’t allowed to decide on appetizers when they went out so there was _no way in hell_ , Mo’s words not his, that Zoey would be allowed anywhere near the food preparation so she was relegated to grocery-fetcher and pot-stirrer. 

————

“This is so boring.” Zoey whined, projecting her voice towards Max who stood at the counter cutting cured meat for the charcuterie board. 

“If you keep saying that I’m gonna make you go into the dining area and help Mo with the table settings and decorations.”

“Ugh,” Zoey pouted, slumping against the counter and watching the water in the pot that had yet to boil. 

Zoey wasn’t sure how the culinary arts had escaped her because her mother was a great cook and her father had been a genius at wine pairings, so maybe she had grown up spoiled, not having to rely on herself to fix her own meals. 

Once she left for college, her meals certainly went downhill by a certain degree. Most dorms were only equipped with a microwave and a hot plate so she got used to eating prepackaged foods and on Saturday she would usually go out for a meal if it didn’t cost too much. 

A cooking class or two might have helped her in the long run but Zoey felt awkward enough making presentations in front of her classmates with her trusty laptop serving as a barrier between her and the other judgmental techies. The thought of standing over a gas stove with boiling water and sharp knives on hand was enough to give her lurid nightmares over her safety, nevermind the fears of contracting food poisoning and spending the night in her least favorite place, the emergency room. 

She had gotten used to going out to eat at restaurants and ordering takeout until she had moved back to San Francisco and started eating her mother’s food again, but she still had zero knack for creating tasty dishes of her own. 

Mo seemed to think that her tech savvy brain crippled her creative side and Max just wanted to feed her to make sure she was getting enough nutrients aside from the coffee she drank every morning and the snack bar at work that saved her from having to go out and pay for lunch most days. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you a watched pot never boils?” Mo slid into the space between Zoey and the stove, eyeing her as if he thought she was sabotaging his dinner party by staring at tepid water. 

“I’m pretty sure I heard that somewhere.” Zoey snarked back, ignoring the surprised expression that crossed Max’s face as she moved away from the stove.

“You’re the one who won’t allow me to cook and you said my creativity was dependent on my musical superpower and in no way helped you decorate for the ‘dinner party of the century.’ It’s just the four of us, you know? The president and first lady aren’t showing up.”

“Thank God for that!”

Max snorted but turned back to his cutting board when Zoey jerked her head around to glare at him. 

“Well,” Mo drawled, after a short pause, “I’m going to get started on the drinks. Eddie should be here any minute. I hope he brought the tri...“ His voice trailed off as he left the kitchen and headed for the bar cart in the living room.

Zoey sighed again, tapping the toes of her new shoes against the bare floor in tune with the song ringing through her head. 

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” Max moved to stand next to her, throwing a sweet smile her way. “Why don’t you help me with the crackers. Two brains are better than one and all that.” 

“I thought it was ‘two heads.’” Zoey scrunched up her nose but reached into the cabinet for the water crackers and helped Max arrange them on the marble platter. 

Zoey stood back to admire their work and had to admit it looked just as good as the cheese plates that her mother liked to impress her guests with. 

“It looks good. I can’t believe I’m excited to eat little slices of meat with pickles.”

Max chuckled, the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled sending butterflies winding through her stomach. “You’ve clearly never been to a kosher home during the holidays.” 

Zoey struggled not to cross her eyes and stick her tongue out at him like she would have done if Max was her brother but he wasn’t and she didn’t want to look ridiculous in front of him. 

“See, it’s not so hard once you get used to it.”

“I just took some crackers out of a box. I didn’t create a freakin’ masterpiece.”

“You just have to give yourself time. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know?” The soft look in Max’s eyes melted her heart but she couldn’t let him see how he affected her so she turned her gaze to the counter. 

“Why should I take advice from an apron-wearing wimp anyways?”

“Hey!” Max breathed out a surprised laugh, “If it’s wimpy to protect my exorbitantly expensive shirt from stains, then I’m happy to accept the title. Plus I’m your friend. Would I lead you astray?” 

Zoey rolled her eyes before bursting into giggles, picturing a t-shirt underneath Max’s expensive shirt that had a giant ‘W’ for wimpy on it like Superman’s super suit. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting weird today. I’m just uncomfortable and it brings out my grumpy side.” 

“I’m not sure if grumpy is the term I would use, but I think that the sooner Mo gets the bar cart in here, the better it will be for the rest of us.” Max winked and Zoey reached for the closest item at hand before throwing it at him.

Max’s mouth fell open and he gaped at her. “Did you just throw a spoon at me?”

Zoey stared at him, wide-eyed. _So much for being adults_ , she thought, before she ran out of the kitchen and into the dining room, Max in hot pursuit. 

Zoey stopped on one side of the dining room table, grasping onto the chairs in front of her to keep her balance as she tottered on the Christian Louboutin heels that she wore. 

_I can’t believe Mo’s insistence that we dress up tonight. He knows how I feel about heels and updos_ , she thought, as she felt a trickle of sweat run down her side underneath the weight of her lace dress.

Max stood across the table from her. His dark eyes were bright with mischief and she glanced behind her, hoping that Mo wasn’t currently primping in front of the bathroom mirror so she could barricade herself in the bathroom away from her best friend who looked like he had plans for retaliation.

“I’m sorry!” She blurted out, breathless from adrenaline and a spike of something delicious that she didn’t want to pay too close attention to.

“Don’t you dare think of it, Zoey!” Max ordered as she swung her attention back towards the bathroom.

“Oh yeah?” She snatched up another utensil from the table, disturbing the carefully folded cloth napkin underneath. “Don’t test me. I have a knife.”

“A _butter_ knife doesn’t scare me.” Max huffed out a laugh and Zoey glared at him. 

“Come on, Max. I thought the whole reason we were having this dinner party instead of going out was because we wanted to behave more maturely.” She tried to reason with him.

“Says the girl who just threw a spoon at me, ran from the room and is now threatening me with a knife that is only scary to a stick of butter.” 

Zoey leveled him with a stare, her heart beating strongly in her chest as she watched him. Max hadn’t changed very much over the last few months, Zoey herself felt like she had changed enormously especially since the death of her father, but she did feel like he had become more confident and the dark shadow of facial hair that he had recently taken to sporting added to his attractiveness. In all honesty she found it quite distracting. 

She watched as he licked his lips, suddenly wishing that the table didn’t stand between them and neither did the friendship that she had insisted on keeping between them despite the love she knew he felt for her and that _still_ existed in her heart, no matter how hard she tried to deny it.

“Zoey Clarke, are you really messing up my place settings? Because you know what place that falls under in my house rules.” 

Zoey jerked her gaze up, to catch Mo smirking at her from over Max’s shoulder. His gaze clearly said, “I know what you’re thinking and I heartily approve.” 

“What? Uh, no? I just uh— saw a smudge on this knife. I told Max he should go get a cloth to wipe it down but he wouldn’t listen.” She lied, praying that Mo wouldn’t say any more.

Mo glanced at Max as if to ask, “is this true?” but the doorbell rang and he hurried off to let Eddie in so they could start.

 _Literally, saved by the bell_ , Zoey thought as she put the knife back down and took her seat. Max stood in place for a moment or two more. She felt his gaze on her but she distracted herself by taking a sip of the ice water in front of her. 

This isn’t over, his gaze seemed to say and she felt a shiver run through her that had nothing to do with the ice floating in her glass. 

————

“Well, that was delish, Max.” Mo stated. He had moved from his seat next to Eddie to stand at his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his shoulders as he leaned his head against the side of Eddie’s. Clearly some alone time was on the agenda for the dating pair and Zoey felt a glow of contentment flow over her as she looked at them.

She shared a conspiratorial smile with Max as they watched them. Eddie and Mo had become more and more affectionate as they drank more and more as the evening progressed. 

Clearly the evening was over and their canoodling was Zoey’s cue to leave. She dropped her napkin onto her plate, promising she would come over the next day to clean up the mess when she was in a better state to help.

 _Thank god I live right across the hall_ , Zoey thought, as she stood, immediately having to catch herself against the edge of the table.

“Are you okay?” Max asked, his voice close enough to make her jump. She was surprised he had made it to her side so quickly, his arm wrapped around her waist to steady her. 

“Yeah, fine.” The scent of his cologne that she had gotten teases of all night suddenly encompassed her and she wasn’t sure if the alcohol or his nearness was the cause of her dizziness.

“I think I ought to help you across the hall.” Max stated, thanking Mo for the night — _we_ had fun.

Zoey was tipsy but she didn’t miss the knowing look in Mo’s eye as they left the dining room and headed towards the door.

Zoey's feet hurt like hell and she gripped Max’s shoulder tightly with one hand, stopping them in the middle of the living room so she could strip off her heels. 

“Torture devices,” She mumbled, tossing her head so that her earrings danced against her neck.

Max huffed out a laugh and she felt the puff of his breath against the side of her neck, a shiver involuntarily running down her back at the feeling. 

“Are you cold?” He asked, moving closer than ever to wrap both arms around her. _Shit, I’m in trouble now_ , she thought as they shuffled towards the exit.

The door creaked on the hinges as it opened and the ‘3’ on her door shined like a beacon under the hall light as they walked closer. 

“I had a great time.” She managed to blurt out, stalling, as they moved across the hall towards her apartment. “The food was really delicious.”

Temptation lay behind that door and she was afraid to walk through it. She wanted Max, she knew that. She loved him and the spark of attraction that had been there the whole night wasn’t disappearing like the wine in her glass had disappeared over the evening. If she let him come in would she be able to resist throwing herself at him, with the hazy wine buzz flowing through her veins. 

“I had fun too. Even though you threatened me with a couple of different utensils.” The warmth of his palm on her back seemed to sear through her but she didn’t want him to let go, ever. 

“Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.” She lied. He had that effect on her, making her do and say things she would have never dreamed of doing before.

“That’s what I love about you. You never do what I expect you to do.” 

Zoey pulled away and his grip on her slackened.  
His eyes widened like he just realized what he had said and she felt her heart rate pick up speed. 

“You _still_ love me? I thought you had a girlfriend.” She asked, turning to face him as she used his broad shoulders to steady herself. She lifted her chin to catch his eye and the warmth and desire that she saw there made her catch her breath. 

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend. And I wasn’t going to say anything, I swear. But you just looked so beautiful and I don’t know— I don’t care if you act immature some of the time or all of the time for that matter. I love you just the way you are. I think you’re _everything_.” 

“Well, in that case.” Zoey crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, laughing. She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him with laughter still on her tongue and he smiled against her mouth as he crowded her into the doorjamb.

She mouthed _I love you too_ against his lips when they pulled back for air and she knew he felt the same way when he leaned in for another, the strength of his hands holding her up like a lifeline in a storm tossed sea of desire.

A lyrical love song started humming through her head but she ignored it for the taste of his lips was better than any song ever written.


End file.
